Kitchen Charms
by KelleBelle
Summary: Remus can't name what there is between them, but Sirius thinks Muggle television can.


**Kitchen Charms**

Remus was in the middle of washing dishes when Sirius burst through the door of their small London flat.

"Honey, I'm hooooome!" he bellowed, carelessly tossing his motorbike keys onto the coffee table and stepping into the kitchen. He leaned roguishly in the doorway, his dark hair falling into mischievous grey eyes.

"Don't call me honey," was the only thing Remus could think to say. He was only peripherally aware of how very domestic he must look, doing the dishes in yellow rubber gloves that nearly reached his elbows.

Sirius grinned, and in one smooth motion caught Remus by the waist and whirled him around before bending him over, dipping him in a surprisingly graceful arc. Remus laughed and made unsuccessful attempts to escape Sirius' arms. His wet rubber gloves weren't helping, though he did manage to get a few retaliatory soap suds in Sirius' hair.

"And why shouldn't I call you honey?" Sirius purred, eyes dancing. "Honey like your hair, honey like your eyes…" Remus' laughter quieted; it was moments like these that, for a few interminable seconds, he thought that there might be _something_, something that had broken through the surface between them and made ripples in the air.

"… honey like the Honeydukes chocolates you so wolfishly crave," Sirius finished. Remus snapped back into the present, the half-imagined stirrings disappearing as quickly as they'd floated into consciousness.

"That's it, no more muggle television for you," Remus said, trying to sound stern and intimidating while Sirius was holding him inches above their linoleum floor.

Moving into their flat a month ago had been one of the more interesting experiences of Remus' life, which was saying a lot coming from a Marauder. Sirius had been enthralled with the small kitchen telly Remus' parents had given him, and so had dipped into his own inheritance and bought a much larger one to put in their living room. Remus had teased him about it, though really it was quite endearing how taken Sirius was with everything muggle.

"_You_ should watch more television, Moony. You work too hard."

It had been the wrong thing to say; the corners of Remus' mouth tightened, though he replied steadily, "Not everyone's as daft as you are about the jingles, Sirius." But Sirius realized the fun was gone, and returned Remus to his feet.

"You don't have to do the dishes, you know," Sirius said, casting his gaze around their small kitchen in search of a safer topic. "I could do them. Or we could just charm them."

"Your cleaning charms are awful." Remus had turned towards the sink, his rubber gloves already thrust back into the soapy water.

"Well, maybe," Sirius conceded. "But I don't want you to feel like you have to do all the work. I want to do my share of work on the flat too, Moony."

"It's not like I have anything more productive to do," Remus muttered darkly, scrubbing a teacup a bit more harshly than was strictly necessary.

Sirius leaned against the counter, casually picking up a nearby hand towel and drying a few mismatched plates. "Don't worry, Moony. I'm sure you'll find a job. And even if you don't—" Sirius said loudly, talking over Remus' protests, "it won't matter because we're mates and we're sharing this flat and bugger if I don't owe you a lifetime's worth to repay you for everything, anyway."

And Remus, who had felt quite unbalanced in more than one way after Sirius had wrapped his hands around his waist, accepted Sirius' words and the unspoken apology for past transgressions Remus had long since forgiven. "All right, then."

"Smile, Moony," Sirius sing-songed in an uncanny impression of a popular muggle commercial, all grinning good-humor once more, "you've just been swept off your feet by the _most_ charming Mr. Black."

Remus contemplated his response for a few moments, not allowing the smile to spread across his face until after he'd sprayed Sirius with the water and ran out of the kitchen laughing, leaving a slightly sodden Mr. Black to finish the dishes.

It was very early in the morning when Remus returned to Grimmauld Place from his most recent Order mission. Talking to the darkest factions of London's underground reminded him far too much of the first war, and he felt tired and drained from the experience.

He made his way quietly through the dark hallways of headquarters and silently entered the kitchen. He leaned against the doorway, watching as Sirius battled with a sink full of dirty dishes. He appeared to be hissing _Scourgify_ at the offending dinner ware, though the forks only twitched half-heartedly while the knives glinted menacingly.

Remus interrupted Sirius' string of curses with a small laugh. "You always were absolute rubbish at cleaning charms." He was smiling as Sirius whirled around, Sirius' grip on his wand tightening before he realized it was Remus. He lowered his wand sheepishly, his face breaking into a shadow of a grin.

"You're back," Sirius said, and Remus' smile softened at the unspoken question.

"I'm back for a while this time."

Sirius nodded. "Good," he said, his wand now hanging loosely by his side. His long hair was tied back, though a few strands were falling in his eyes, reminding Remus of how Sirius had worn it years ago. "I told Molly I'd finish up for her. Didn't want her to lose sleep when I'd be up anyway."

"Having trouble sleeping?" Remus asked casually, though it was by no means a casual question. Remus knew Sirius had existed for too long sleeping only when it was absolutely necessary, when his body was too exhausted to continue traveling. Now that he was trapped within the confines of Grimmauld Place Sirius had more time to rest and, as a result, more nightmares. 

"No more than usual," Sirius said, and then quietly added, "though it's always better when you're here."

Remus held the breath in his lungs for a heartbeat longer before letting it out. There it was, the _something_ that years before he hadn't been able to identify, but what he could now see so clearly between them. He considered for a moment, wondering if Sirius could name it, too.

"You know what this kitchen really needs," said Remus after a moment, "is some sweeping."

Sirius had opened his mouth—no doubt to tell Remus to bloody well do the sweeping himself—but stopped abruptly when Remus leapt forward and grabbed Sirius by his hand and twirled him around the table, then into a warm embrace

"I think," Remus murmured as Sirius stared at him with impossibly wide, grey eyes, "that we've danced around this for long enough."

Remus bent them both into an arch in one sweeping motion before their lips met, warm and moist as they pressed softly against each other.

When they broke away Remus pulled both of them into a properly upright position. Remus realized he was blushing, and thought vaguely how a lifetime ago Sirius might have laughed at his dramatics, commenting it was something fit for a muggle television program.

Now they were both older and weary but so _alive_ and breathing raggedly, and Remus was just hoping that Sirius would _say something_ so he wouldn't keep standing there, his cheeks pink with their faces only inches apart.

"That was always my worst nightmare, you know," Sirius said finally.

Remus startled. "What, me kissing you?"

"No," Sirius said, and he laughed. "That I'd never take the initiative and tell you how I felt, how I'd felt back then."

"Oh," was all Remus could think to say. 

"I don't think I've ever been happier to have my worst dream come true. You beat me to it, you bastard."

And now Remus was laughing too, his arms still wrapped around Sirius' waist and their eyes inches apart. "I never knew what to call this, back then."

"You should have taken my advice, Remus," Sirius said softly, his laughter fading as a tender tone crept into his words. "You would have known it was love if you'd watched more muggle television."

Molly Weasley woke up the next morning to a sink full of dirty dishes. "Oh, honestly," she sighed, and cast a _Scourgify_ over her shoulder before starting to make breakfast. She was expecting Remus Lupin back from his Order mission any moment now, and wanted to make sure Remus had something to eat after his long, sleepless night.


End file.
